


I'm yours

by andromedagalaxy



Category: Eyewitness (US TV)
Genre: M/M, discussion of Anne's death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 18:02:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11236299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andromedagalaxy/pseuds/andromedagalaxy
Summary: “I’ve been thinking about you.”“I’m watching a nature documentary and it just makes me think about you. Is that weird?”“I wish I could hold you right now.”“They gave me cherry jello and it’s awful. That kind you buy is better.”“I wanna be with you. I hope you’re alright. Alright as you can be.”





	I'm yours

**Author's Note:**

> I want to personally say, I'm shit at answering comments. I work almost every day and it's hard to get time to go through and respond to everybody. Sometime soon I want to take a whole day and just answer everybody that I haven't gotten to yet. But I want to say I read everything, and you guys keep me going with your beautiful words and your appreciation for everything I do, especially the long college verse and the immense as hell Westworld AU. It's hard to keep on sometimes but every time I get a comment that says "you make my day" or something to that affect, it makes me want to keep going. I'm so happy my writing affects you guys and that you're enjoying it. I hope you stick around with me until I hang it up, which won't be for a while, if things go according to plan. I have their entire college career planned out, and I hope you're excited to see all of it.
> 
> THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT! I'm andromeda---galaxy on tumblr if anyone wants to make requests. I'll look at all messages and see what I can do!

_How long are you going to lay in the dark?_

_Until she comes back. Until the world sits back on its axis and things are right again. Because her being dead isn’t right. It isn’t right and it makes him feel like he’s dead too._

Philip’s body is aching because he hasn’t moved in hours, static running back and forth through his fingers like waves. He can’t breathe through his nose because he’s been crying for so long and so often, and his eyes are so swollen that he’s better off keeping them closed. Helen had knocked on the door a while ago and he’d tried to give her an answer, but he could only croak something about wanting to be alone before he even really thought about it.

It’s been a week. One week. And even though they weren’t living together before everything happened, he still expects to see her around every corner. He still expects to get a call from her, to hear her voice. He wants to ask her things. And now that he can’t it feels like a pit in the center of his heart, something that he needs to fix, that he’s desperate to fix, that’d he’d do everything to _fix_ and when he realizes that he can’t, that this is one of those impossible things, permanent, forever, he falls deep into another wave of tears, hysteria, a deep pool of pain and horror. 

_My mom is dead. She’s dead and I’m never getting her back._

There’s another soft knock at the door. Philip can’t bring himself to say anything so he just hopes whoever it is will go away, will give up on him, will leave him here in the dark.

But the door opens and the orange hallway light comes flooding in. He tries to close his eyes tighter, tries to even out his breathing so he can pretend to be asleep, but whoever it is doesn’t leave. 

“It’s me,” Lukas’s voice says.

Philip can’t help the little lurch his heart does, the natural reaction it has every time he even thinks too hard about Lukas. He’s been here every day since he got out of the hospital, and even when he was laid up behind those whitewash walls for those two days he’d texted Philip almost every minute. 

_“I’ve been thinking about you.”_   
_“I’m watching a nature documentary and it just makes me think about you. Is that weird?”_   
_“I wish I could hold you right now.”_   
_“They gave me cherry jello and it’s awful. That kind you buy is better.”_   
_“I wanna be with you. I hope you’re alright. Alright as you can be.”_

Philip still can’t find words in his throat but a few more tears fall. He doesn’t know why Lukas wants to be here. Wants to be with him while he’s like this, wants to be with him at all. Philip is a broken thing with jagged pieces, weighed down by all the pain that’s in his heart. He’s a lost orphan, a burden, a bundle of too many feelings. He’s nothing, no one. 

“Can I get into bed with you?” Lukas asks.

Philip isn’t looking at him but he knows he’s burning with the light because the door is still open. He knows he hasn’t moved, is still standing close to the way out just in case Philip asks him to leave, even though he never has. 

Philip has to look at him. He feels like he won’t be able to go on if he doesn’t, won’t be able to find a reason to move again today if he doesn’t set eyes on him. So he shifts, painfully, the static going white hot and shooting up his arm. He braces his hand on the bed and sits up, looking over his shoulder.

Lukas clicks his tongue when he sees him, his brows knitting together. Philip knows he must look bad, because Lukas clenches his hands together and takes an abrupt step forward. “Please?” Lukas asks, softly.

Philip nods, and before he can utter the word _yeah_ Lukas is pushing the door closed and crossing the room. He steps out of his sneakers fast and climbs into bed, helping Philip ease onto his side so they’re facing each other.

Lukas rubs his hand up and down Philip’s side, silently staring at him. Philip doesn’t meet his eyes because lately Lukas’s gaze has almost been too much. Too full of fear—and other things. A clear need to want to help but no real idea how. And something that Philip would want to call love, if he’s having a good day. But on days like this he wonders how Lukas could ever love him. How Lukas could ever look at him the way he is right now.

Lukas reaches up and stops a tear before it trails down Philip’s cheek. “I, um—I brought sunflowers—I brought you sunflowers. Is that weird? I left them downstairs because I wasn’t sure if it was weird.”

The smile sneaks up on Philip, and the laughter does too. “No,” he croaks, clearing his throat. “No, it’s—it’s not weird.”

“Okay, good,” Lukas says. He leans forward and kisses the tip of Philip’s nose delicately, then his cheeks, his eyelids, his forehead. He runs his hands through Philip’s hair, brushing it back from his face. 

Philip knows he must look like shit, and he doesn’t know how Lukas can even stand touching him, let alone kissing him.

“I brought my laptop too, I thought we could—rent a movie, maybe, or maybe just watch shit on YouTube. Whatever you want. And I, uh—got chocolate strawberries. Had my dad bring me to the store because he’s still acting all weird about me riding my bike.”

Philip’s heart lurches again and he can feel his eyes straining. Lukas cups his cheek like he’s ready to catch any tears that fall. He touches him reverently. “Why’re you doing all this?” Philip asks.

Lukas looks incredulous, shaking his head a little bit. “I want to,” he says, simply.

Philip loves him. But he won’t say it. Instead he leans forward, nuzzling into Lukas’s neck. Lukas sighs softly and pulls him close, wrapping his arms around him. 

“I’m here, baby,” Lukas whispers, smoothing his hand up and down Philip’s back. “I’m here and I’m not gonna go anywhere until you want me to leave.”

“I don’t ever want you to leave,” Philip finds himself saying, before he really thinks about it, and he sounds so small and melancholy that he’s almost ashamed.

“Then I won’t ever leave,” Lukas says, kissing the top of Philip’s head.

Philip laughs a little bit, breathing him in. Lukas always smells good, how windswept hair smells, or sun kissed lilies, or fresh laundry. 

“I mean it,” Lukas says. “I’ll be here all the time. I’ll be attached to you like a…a spider monkey or something.”

Philip snorts, legitimately dips his head into Lukas’s shoulder and laughs. And it doesn’t hurt. “You’re an idiot,” he says. 

“But I’m your idiot, right?” Lukas asks, tentatively, as if he isn’t sure of the answer. 

Philip knows his mom loved Lukas. He knows she supported their relationship, wanted him to be happy. And he knows he can’t find happy yet. Not yet. But there’s a sliver of golden light streaming in through the crack in the door, and Lukas is here with him. Philip knows he’ll be the one to lead him out of this.

“Yeah,” Philip says. “You’re mine. And I’m yours.”


End file.
